She Walks In Beauty
by Grasshopper
Summary: The true turning point of Tom Riddle's transition into Lord Voldemort... [BtVS.HP Trilogy - Willow-Tom Riddle]


[Title] - Like The Night  
[Author] - Grasshopper (A.K.A. The Undertaker's Muse)  
[Email] - uber_bitch13@yahoo.com  
[Rated] - PG  
[Series] - She Walks In Beauty  
[Warnings] - Alternate universe, romance, fluff.  
[Category] - Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Harry Potter  
[Spoilers] - None.  
[Pairings] - Willow/Tom Riddle  
[Summary] - The true turning point of Tom Riddle's transition into Lord Voldemort…  
[Author's Notes] - As this is an alternate universe, I thought I'd point out that Willow is a Weasley. You do the math to figure out just who she is. Plus, this is the first in a trilogy, as well as the result of Jinni's poetry challenge (week #3). As this is my first BtVS/HP crossover, I'd like for y'all to let me know what you think. I accept all feedback, including flames.  
[Disclaimer] - All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon. All things HP belong to J. K. Rowling. The title and poem excerpt belong to Lord Byron. 

  


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_She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

  


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One long, slim finger wound itself into a scarlet lock of hair. Curling inwards for a better grip, the finger tugged slightly on the smooth strands. It was as fine as silk against his skin, softly tickling the flesh of his finger. Moving slowly, but steadily, the remaining fingers of his hand tangled themselves into the mass of red curls.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," a female voice, husky with laughter, queried softly, "what, in Merlin's name, do you think you are doing?"

Arching a dark brow, Tom sneered at the Ravenclaw Prefect beside him. "I believe, Miss Weasley, that what I am or am not doing is none of your affair."

Pursing her lips in indignation, the young woman brushed a few stray curls behind her ear, only to have them escape a moment later. "Is that so, Mr. Riddle?"

"Would I lie, Miss Weasley?" His smirk fading somewhat into a pout, Tom's laughing eyes met hers.

"Of course you would," she replied primly, breaking into a grin as the Slytherin drew back in mock outrage. "Don't look at me like that, Tom - you didn't become a Slytherin prefect because you are the epitome of sweetness and light."

Lips firmly set into a pout, Tom blinked innocently at her before finally breaking into a smile of his own. His crimson eyes quickly surveyed their surroundings. Reassured that no one was in viewing distance of them, he pulled her toward where he sat.

As she fell onto his lap, her hands gripped him tightly. Emerald eyes growing dark with annoyance, she was ready to reach up and slap him for making her fall. Fingers contracting in anger, her nails dug deeply into his chest. As his jaw tightened in pain, the redhead looked down to see what was wrong.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry, Tom, I didn't-"

"Shh…" He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her apologies. "It's alright. I'm alright."

"But, I-"

Once again, he brought a halt to her words. He slowly traced her lips with his fingertip.

A furious blush stained her cheeks and she pulled back quickly. Moving to get off his lap, Tom's strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her stationary.

Brushing back the spill of red curls that covered her flushed face, he nuzzled her cheek gently. Her name escaped from his lips in a light whisper, barely audible to her.

"Willow…"

His warm breath tickled her ear, sending a small shiver throughout her body.

"Yes…" At her sighed response, Willow's lips brushed his cheek temptingly.

Time seemed to halt as their lips tentatively met. As the moments passed, so did their hesitancy. His tongue gently traced the curve of her petal-soft lips, lightly probing. With a sigh, they parted, allowing him entry to her mouth. Careful, so as not to startle her, Tom's tongue slowly explored.

Moaning softly as Tom broke their kiss, Willow blinked smoky green eyes up at him. Her lips were swollen slightly and glistened in the late-afternoon sunlight.

"Oh, m-my," she stuttered.

Unable to respond in words, Tom nodded. His hand lightly stroked the curve of her hip, stopping for a moment as Willow moved from her place on his lap. Curling into his side, her face rested in the crook of his neck. They stayed like that for several minutes, before Tom's voice broke the silence.

"We should return to the castle; someone is likely to miss us soon."

Her swollen lips pouting alluringly, Willow murmured, "Do we have to?"

Sighing in resolve, he remained still. "Yes. We're Prefects - people are going to notice if we're gone for too long at a time."

"We have responsibilities," she agreed, but didn't move.

Smiling softly, he kissed her forehead. "We should return…"

A regretful sigh escaped her lips as she began to move away from him, only to be stilled by his hand on her hip.

"…but I'm certain that a few more minutes won't harm anyone," he added.

Willow settled back into her resting place, and kissed his robe-clad shoulder.

"A few more minutes…"

"A few" became ten…became twenty…became an hour. As the sky began to darken and their stomachs rumbled with hunger, the two finally began their trek back to the castle.

The moon's silver light reflected on Willow's red hair, reminding Tom of a poem he'd read once; a line from the worn pages of a threadbare book back at the orphanage.

"_She walks in beauty, like the night…_" he murmured.

"Did you say something, Tom?" Willow looked at him, eyes shining with curiosity.

"Oh, it was nothing." _And everything._

She smiled at him softly, white teeth flashing in the darkness.

"Come along, Mr. Slytherin Prefect," she laughed, before lightly kissing his cheek. "Besides, I don't want to take house points for you being out late."

Bursting into laughter, she took off in the direction of the castle doors.

It took a moment for her words to register in his mind, but then he was rushing to catch up with her. Their laughter rang out in the night's silence.

  


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**[The End]**


End file.
